Buffalo Bill is defunct

I have been doing antique shows for about 16 years or so. When Leslie and I started, we would do as many as 35 a year, mostly weekend shows in Los Angeles and swap meets. Now I do about 8 a year, pretty much by myself.

Antiques shows are physically grueling endeavors. You have to pack everything up, drive to the venue, set up your electrical and lighting, paper the walls, unload your stuff, put the boxes back in the truck, it frankly kicks your ass. Then you spend 3 or 4 days being exceedingly pleasant to potential customers, an act of extraordinary endurance in itself.

The antique show game is partly about using your eye and knowledge to gain an advantage over your competitor. So you have to walk the floor periodically to make sure that a dealer hasn't made a horrible mistake that you can capitalize on. Some of the best pickers are really tall guys with long strides that can cover a lot of ground. They will often times wait in front of a booth of an easy mark during setup and watch them unpack every box, ready to pounce.

It is not uncommon to walk an entire show 6 or 7 times in a day to see what has turned up. Productive but a bitch on your feet and ankles, especially on hard concrete or pavement.

The antiques game is really a lesson in predation. You go to a show and you have to decide if you are going to be predator or prey. Many come to be eaten. I tend to be a top of the food chain predator, except in rarefied places like New York or Santa Fe, where sometimes even I assume the position.

The antiques and art racket seems to be losing a lot of steam. Kids today just don't give a shit about art unless maybe it's getting drilled into their skin with a #7 round tattoo needle. The median age at an antique show these days is frankly older than George Gobel. So we sit around like dinosaurs, waiting for the flood or maybe an approaching comet to put an end to our evolutionary line.

I get an email from a promoter about once a month noting some dealer's passing or serious illness. Heard an announcement that one of the dealers is at death's door today and expect an update any moment. People around the corner from me are both approaching that golden light at the other end of the tunnel.

And one day it will probably be me. No retirement plan in this industry. You tend to keep working until they drag you out of some godforsaken hall with a tag on your toe. A hustler's life, to be sure. And I am frankly feeling it today. Very tired.

***

I find that getting ready for a show is tricky in an emotional sense. You can think a show will suck and it can turn out wonderfully. Or the inverse, you can start out with this great attitude and then crash and burn and have a horrible show. Although it is rare, that show from hell is always at the back of my mind, is this the one where I completely fall on my ass?

I try to be reasonably pessimistic and then pleasantly surprised if things go better than expected. So that I don't go running for the razor blades when my expectations are dashed and sodomized.

I have a really nice and smart clientele and I enjoy interacting with them. The people make it worthwhile.    Of course there are people that you have shpieled for an eternity and never buy anything and you have to give them your pitch and they still don't buy and you start to wonder if you aren't really a performing seal or something, there for the purpose of entertaining them. It is not too hard for a guy like me to feel a slight tinge of hostility in those situations. But the reality is that some people will never grok you, its a biochemical thing.

I would be remiss if I didn't point out that in the midst of a recession and with 2 trillion large sucked out of the economy, my job has become much harder. People are scared and they aren't in the mood to spend money on much besides necessities these days. My logic to date has been to try to tread water and not sell too much below the old market unless I have to, but like many others I am starting to eat up the seed corn. C'est la vie. I am lucky to have a lot of inventory to show for the great times. God damn I hope they return one day.